


A Land Line

by Starznstripez50 (orphan_account)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic Avengers, Fluff, Grocery Store, M/M, Wooing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 06:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3437264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Starznstripez50
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I came to assist you with your grocery troubles. My spidey senses were tingling.” He grins, folding his arms.</p>
<p>“Your what were tingling?”</p>
<p>They meet in a grocery store.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Steve stands in front of the dairy isle in absolute puzzlement. All he wants is some milk, why does there have to be so many different kinds of milk? Two percent? One percent? Half and half? Why is it only half milk and what is the other half? He stands there for twenty minutes, receiving weird looks from multiple customers until a short brunet comes to stand next to him. 

The other man grabs two percent milk without a glance, giving Steve an amused look. “You need help?” An appreciative once over goes amiss by Steve. Sighing with a relieved smile, Steve shuffles the empty bright blue grocery basket in his arms. “Um, yeah, you see, all I want is some normal milk, but there are so many kinds?” He points to a brown carton. “I didn’t even know almonds could become milk.” He then points out the yoghurt. “And is there any yoghurt that’s not low-fat, Greek, or fruit infused?” 

The man just stares at him for a second before shaking his head, laughing. He pulls out a red carton and presses it to his chest. “This is whole, normal, milk.” Steve grabs it with a sunny, “Thank you!” and places it into his basket. The man, who he still doesn’t know the name of, leans against the frigid, closed doors of the freezer isle. “You’re not from around here are you?” He questions, swinging his own grocery basket back and forth.

Steve pulls out his grocery list (which is really just a small rumpled piece of paper with doodles all over it), and looks up when the other man speaks. Steve is suddenly hit by the fact that the other man is stunning. It takes a while to get his brain working long enough to answer. “Actually, I grew up in Brooklyn; I just came back from a six year tour in Europe for the Army.” 

The brunet looks impressed. “No wonder you look like a lost puppy. Not a lot of grocery shopping in the army huh?” He chuckles. 

Steve shakes his head with a small smile, not exactly wanting to dwell on that topic. “There’s not exactly MRE’s here.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Steve.” He meets the man’s eyes with a soft grin. 

“Tony.” The man walks away with a smile over his shoulder, eyes sparkling with mirth. 

Tony. Steve stares after him, not realizing what he was doing, until an old woman asks for his help carrying groceries. In the back of his mind, he wishes the encounter with Tony was longer. 

-  
However, they meet again. 

This time, Steve’s battling with a self-check-out machine to get it to register his huge pile of coupons. 

“Oh god, don’t tell me you’re one of those extreme couponers.” 

Steve jumps in surprise, jerking to face the disembodied voice. “Tony?” He asks in surprise. It’s been a week; he never expected to see him again. Not that he didn't want to see him again, oh no, Natasha and Thor have heard all about ‘grocery store man’, they teased him about it constantly. 

“The one and only. I came to assist you with your grocery troubles. My spidey senses were tingling.” He grins, folding his arms. 

“Your what were tingling?” He cocks his head in confusion. 

“Spider-man? Nothing? Jesus Christ, where do you live, under a rock?” Tony shakes his head in mock shame.

“Nope. Sorry about that.” He shrugs, still struggling with the coupons. 

“You uncultured swine.” He bumps Steve out of the way to handle the coupons. “You’re doing it wrong, have you never been around electronics before?” 

Steve frowns sadly at the insult. “I don’t even have a phone. Old fashioned is more my style I guess.”

Tony groans at what he considers to be a puppy dog face. “That was a joke Steve. Have you never seen Toy Story either?” Tony has to pause, turn and gape at the blonde when he registers what he said. “You’re kidding me right? What the actual fuck, how do you live? Everyone has a phone. Eight year olds even have phones.”

Steve shuffles a little awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Well…I have a land line.”

Tony continues to stare. “A land line. A land line. Who even are you? Where have you been the last 70 years? Don’t tell me its one of those cord ones with the spiny dial-up things.”

Steve just blushes and looks away. “I like them okay?” 

“You’re killin’ me smalls.” Tony bangs his head against the machine. Steve sends him a quizzical look. “The Sandlot? Oh my god. Not even The Sandlot.”

“Not even The Sandlot.” He parrots.  
-  
“Pepper, Peps, Pepperoni. Do you know how many freaking Steve’s there are in the US military? Do you know how many Steve’s there are in New York? Do you even know?” Tony exclaims after hours of searching for grocery store Steve all over the internet and military databases. 

Pepper sighs long suffering. “No Tony. Please explain it to me for the 15th time.” She deadpans. 

Tony opens his mouth to reply, but Pepper stops him. “That was rhetorical. You know, maybe you should ask for his number like a normal human. Just a suggestion.” 

Tony slams his head down on a table. “He doesn't even have a god damn cell phone I can track!”

Pepper laughs. “Whatever shall you do, you poor soul. You might have to actually talk to him! Or better yet, woo him.” She gasps, mocking him.

“Pepper it’s not funny!” He whines, draping himself across the coffee table dejectedly. 

“It is to me. Tell you what. Go back to the grocery store, ask for his number, and if he says no, then, and only then, will I help you.” She says diplomatically. 

Tony pouts. “Fine.”  
-  
He didn’t mean for it to go this way he swears. 

53 sleepless hours of building and fixing later, Tony sits on the floor of the grocery store in the dairy isle. 

“…Tony? Is that you?” Steve stands there completely confused. He was about to check out when he saw a lump on the floor, and immediately went to help.  
Tony’s eyes snap open. “Steve! I’ve been waiting for you!” He scrambles to his feet. 

“You have?” He’s still confused, but now he’s amused. 

Tony, delirious and disheveled, nods. “ I don’t have your phone number, you’re not on the internet, it’s like you don’t exist.” Tony squints at him. “You’re real right?” He pokes at his pecs and biceps. “Yup, that’s real.” 

Steve stifles a laugh. “Are you drunk or something? Let me take you home.” He smiles fondly. 

Tony babbles endlessly, as Steve guides him to his car, drives him to his apartment, and settles him in his own bed. Removing Tony’s shoes, he tucks him into bed. Tony passes out immediately.

He realizes this is probably a really strange situation. And that he probably shouldn’t let almost-strangers into his bed. 

He writes a quick note for Tony since he’ll be gone all morning.

If you wanted my number all you had to do was ask.  
XXX-XXX-XXXX  
-Steve 

He doodles Tony lying on the grocery store floor on the note before taking the couch. 

Alright then.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sister is in labor as I post this. Yikes.

Oh shit. 

Tony blinks away the spots in his vision as the sun pounds on his face.

Jesus mother fu-

“Who the fuck, are you?” A voice interrupts his internal litany of curses. 

Tony looks up from the cheap 100 thread count sheets to glare at this new annoying person. A short blonde man crosses his arms at the end of whose ever bed this is. Tony’s no stranger to waking up in stranger’s beds with no knowledge of the night before. But he’s pretty darn sure he wouldn't sleep with this guy. He has more refined taste.

“You’re not Steve.” The sleep-interrupter meanie says helpfully.

“And you’re not Steve either. How disappointing.” He grouches back, ignoring the rude blonde, in favor of looking on the nightstand for his phone. Instead of finding his phone, he finds a note.

If you wanted my number, all you had to do was ask.   
XXX-XXX-XXXX  
-Steve 

He stares at the note, mouth gaping, remembering what happened the previous night.

Holy fuck. The dots finally connect. He’s in Steve’s bed.

Peering over his shoulder, the blonde starts laughing. “No way, you’re Tony?” Tony frowns. 

“Yeah I’m Tony, who are you?” The blonde whips out his phone and shot off a text. 

“Clint, and if you know what’s good for you, I would leave before Natasha beats you up.”

Tony has no idea who Natasha is but he’s already scared. Tony grins at the doodle Steve drew, and celebrates this as a success.

He has his address.  
-  
[Guess who’s in Steve’s bed? –C]

[Already? –N]  
-  
Steve comes back home to Clint and Natasha sitting on the couch. They turn the TV off when he walks in.

Steve stops. “So guess who I found all snuggled in your sheets this morning?” Clint says smugly. 

Steve goes bright red and sets his art portfolio down on the table. “I swear I didn't do anything! He was just tired, and barely walking, so I just gave him somewhere to sleep.” He hastily explains.

Clint groans, exasperated. “I’m not worried about that, I was hoping you’d get laid. You've been so mopey and depressing and you’re such a groove-ruin-er since Peggy.” Steve’s eyebrow pull together at the reference, and before he can ask, Clint holds up a hand. “Emperor’s New Groove. Yzma is just like our Ethic’s teacher. Anyway, don’t change the subject.”

“I didn’t even say anything! And for the record, I don’t mean to be ‘mopey and depressing’. You could’ve just told me.” Steve says with a sad face. 

“Nope. Nope. See that’s why I didn’t tell you, because you look like someone just killed your puppy and I feel like a guilty asshole.” Natasha pokes him, and Natasha’s ‘pokes’ are painful. Clint winces.

“What he’s trying to say Steve,” Natasha sighs, “Is while you’ve known Tony, is the happiest you’ve been since coming home. And you go to the store way more often than necessary. Why don’t you just ask him out?”

Steve shuffles. “I don’t know… what if I just want to be friends?” 

Clint and Natasha stare at him. Clint slaps a hand to his forehead and mumbles ‘are you freaking kidding me’.

Steve shuffles some more. “Okay, well maybe I like him just a little. But we haven’t really talked that much.”

Natasha takes out her phone. “I can fix that.”   
-  
“Bruce, what’s the probability that Steve will answer if I call? Should I just buy him a cell phone?” Tony spins on a spiny chair, playing with a Rubik’s Cube. 

“If he’s as old fashioned as you say, he doesn't even have caller ID, so he won’t even know it’s you. It’s highly likely he’ll answer.” Bruce pushes up his glasses and turns to face Tony. “And don’t, under any circumstance, buy him something like that.”

“So I should call him?” He asks again, spinning faster to match how fast he’s thinking.

“I think,” Bruce says patiently ”You should actually help me with this project since you’re not doing anything productive, and then call him so you can stop bugging me about it and you can focus.”

“Nah, but thanks anyway. I think I’ll call Steve.” 

Bruce sighs.   
-  
Steve’s head snaps to the telephone as it starts to ring. 

Clint and Natasha push him towards the phone. 

Jiminy Christmas.

“Literally no one calls you so there only one person that could be.” Clint blocks him from escaping. Steve looks to Natasha for some possible support. She shakes her head. “Just answer it.”

He reaches to pick up the phone…and it stops ringing. His phone doesn't have voice mail, or have a number for him to call back. 

Clint bangs his head on the table. “God damn it.”  
-  
Tony bursts back into the room, pointing a finger at Bruce. “You lied! You said he would answer!”

“No, I said he would mostly likely answer, not that he would.” Bruce replies without looking up. “Call again.”

And so he does.  
-  
The phone rings.

This time, Clint shoves the phone into Steve’s hands. 

“You answer this phone or I will literally piss in your sheets right now.”

And so Steve answers.  
-  
“-Hello?” A tentative voice on the other line says.

Tony sighs with relief. 

“Why do you have to have a god damn land line?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheesy ending are the best.
> 
> Would you guys like to see more of Steve or Tony's perspective? Or maybe another avengers' perspective?
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> Please leave a comment if you did :)
> 
> Any questions or concerns? Feel free to contact me!
> 
> All mistakes are mine, but by all means, point them out to me!
> 
> -Allie

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic! Chapters 1-5 are already written, and the next installment should arrive in two days!
> 
> Spelling mistake checks are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Any question comments or concerns? Feel free to contact me.
> 
> Also, any tag suggestions would be appreciated. 
> 
> Rating will go up!
> 
> -Allie


End file.
